Oxford Fanfiction College
by Les Coordinatrixes
Summary: We are taking preventative measures against badfic. So preventative, that we're still not sure exactly when it's going to start pouring in. But when it does, we will be ready. With Subtle Sporks!" Application Forms are now up.


Authorized OFUM spinoff.  
  
A/N: Miss Andy here. As I haven't heard from my co-author for at least a month, I hope she'll forgive me for getting this show on the road. Application forms will be up soon in the profile.  
  
Max and Britney belong to me, Andy Longwood. Baruch and Balthamos belong to Philip Pullman. Yay him. The concept of OFUs belongs to Camilla Sandman, who is a genius, and whom I am not sucking up to in any way, absolutely not. If you haven't read the Official Fanfiction University of Middle-earth, I highly suggest you do so, as it's more than worth the time.  
  
Chapter 1: A Visit to the Land of the Dead  
  
"' . . . Oh Baruch!' she cried, throwing herself at him as they rose into the sky upon her Pegasus dæmon -"  
  
"Britney!" the small boy sitting on the unmade pink-sheeted bed said loudly. "You've told me this story a hundred times already. Why do you keep making me listen to it?"  
  
"Because LAST time it was different." replied the blonde girl who was telling the story. "Last time Baruch was only confused over whether or not he loved Britannia for two chapters instead of three."  
  
"I haven't even read the stupid books yet. How come you're making me listen to your dumb story?" the little boy asked, looking at her with wide eyes. "Why don't you tell it to someone else?"  
  
"Because," Britney snapped, not bothering to add that she read her stories to her brother because no one else would listen.  
  
"I hate all that mushy romancey stuff. Tell it to someone else." Alex said, jumping off the bed and starting across the cluttered floor of his sister's bedroom. "I'm going to watch Spider-man before the school bus gets here."  
  
"Oh fine," Britney said waspishly. "Go watch your stupid movies. I'm going to read."  
  
"Find something that's actually good," Alex advised, disappearing into his room. A sulking Britney turned back to her computer and finished reading the story alone.  
  
"And put on some deodorant. You smell." Alex added, poking his head out of his room once more. Britney growled and threw a pillow at him. It smacked into the door as Alex slammed it shut just in time. Britney pouted and turned back to her story.  
  
It wasn't a bad story. It couldn't be. It was a perfectly sweet love story about Baruch's lover before Balthamos, a beautiful girl who was sweet and kind to everyone, and who smelled like exotic, night-blooming flowers that gave her an aura of mystery and elegance that was irresistibly attractive to any man. At first, Britney had gotten a lot of great reviews from nice people who wanted her to write more, and that was nice. But then a lot of the reviewers actually started criticizing her writing, and that wasn't so nice. A lot of them were mad because she was giving a homosexual angel a female lover. But honestly! It was just fanfic. So what if Baruch was gay? He was too hot to just be gay. Nobody said he couldn't be bisexual. Or that Balthamos was really a two-faced agent of the Authority, forcing Baruch to be his love slave . . .  
  
". . . And so Brittania Silverwings, the most beautiful, kindest girl to have ever wed an angel, lived happily ever after as Baruch's wife. The end!" Britney finished, a small smile lingering on her face, and a bit of drool dripping from the corner of her mouth. It was a good story. Those stupid reviewers who harked about grammar and spelling and canon (whatever that was) were all just anal, they couldn't see the big picture that was Britney Marshall's fabulous story, The Scent of Heaven . . .  
  
Suddenly there was a sharp crack, and a boy appeared a few feet away from Britney in a cloud of smoke. He coughed and fanned at the fumes, muttering about theatrics, cleared his throat to speak, and yelled in pain as Britney seized a can of hairspray from her desk and sprayed it directly in his face.  
  
"AAAAUGH! MOM! ALEX! POLICE!" She screamed, now smacking the boy on the head with the empty can. "THERE'S A BOY IN MY ROO-"  
  
Suddenly, Britney paused.  
  
There was a boy. In her room.  
  
She hadn't been able to say that since before the neighbor-kid moved away when she was nine.  
  
Britney hastily ceased her attack on the strange boy and began, in her most delicate, feminine voice that she was very sorry, but he had surprised her, and she hoped he wouldn't think the worse of her for-  
  
"Oh shut the hell up," the boy said, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "Do you do this to everyone who shows up in your room, or am I just a special case or something? Ow."  
  
Britney sagged in disappointment. When boys randomly appeared in your bedroom, you generally hoped to be able to use words like "tall, dark," and most importantly "handsome" to describe them. This boy called for adjectives such as "skinny, awkward," and "in need of a haircut." His hair looked like someone had stuck a black mop to his head, and his ears could have been accurately described as "elephantine." The boy glared at her.  
  
"Don't get all excited now," he said sarcastically, and launched into a speech before Britney could reply. "Greetings from the Oxford Fanfiction University, the premier His Dark Materials Fanfiction University."  
  
Britney jerked to attention. His Dark Materials? Where?  
  
"My name is Maximillion Spatulastic, official head cook at OFU. It has come to our attention that you are guilty of writing HDM badfic, so I am here to invite you to attend the school, where you will be taught by the His Dark Materials characters themselves -"  
  
Britney snorted. "A school. Run by the HDM characters? How much crack did you smoke this morning?"  
  
"Five pounds." Maximillion said, without skipping a beat. "Then I died. And now I'm here. As I was saying, OFU is located in scenic Lyra's Oxford, where you will be surrounded by the fascinating people of Lyra's World -"  
  
"You don't look like an HDM character." Britney pointed out.  
  
"Yeah, well, normally they send Harpies to do this, but we're understaffed. You will attend such classes as How To Be Arguably Evil 101, Failed Love Without Suicide, and We're Gay Already, so Get Over It For Dust's Sake, taught by Baruch and Baltha-"  
  
"Oh no!" Britney snarled angrily. "You're one of those stupid purists who say that I can't write about Baruch having a wife just because he's gay in the books, aren't you? I don't know how you got here, but you can just get out now. And besides, it's just fanfic, and you can't tell me what to do!"  
  
"On the contrary." Maximillion Spatulastic said, with a slightly sadistic grin. "I can, and I will. If you wanna keep writing HDM fanfiction, you must attend and pass one full term at OFU. If you pass, you will be awarded a license that allows you to write fanfic. If you do not pass, you won't get your license, and won't be allowed to write fanfic."  
  
"Oh yeah? And who's going to stop me?" Britney asked nastily.  
  
Maximillion Spatulastic told her. Britney paled.  
  
"Please fill out this form and you will be escorted to OFU. Thank you, and have a wonderful day." Maximillion said, with a glare that plainly said "Really, I mean go jump down a hole, but I'm on my best behavior right now, so consider yourself lucky." He placed a piece of paper on her desk, and looked at her again.   
  
"By the way," he added. "You interrupted me a lot. I didn't like that. You ought to be more polite when you're talking to the person who's going to be preparing your food."  
  
He grinned evilly, and Britney shrank back, glanced from the boy to the paper, and when she looked up again, he was gone.  
  
Britney blinked. Well, that was certainly strange, to say the least. She looked at the piece of paper on her desk. This was turning out to be a bizarre morning. Maybe she was just dreaming it all . . . yeah, probably she was just having a really weird dream and she'd wake up vowing never to eat anchovies before bed again, but in the meantime . . . she tentatively picked up the paper and unfolded it. It looked like an HDM fan-survey at first glance, and she had a few minutes before school. Britney pulled a pink gel ink pen out of a cup on her desk and began to fill in the spaces.  
  
Name? Britney Marshall.   
  
Age? 14.   
  
Species?   
  
Britney blinked and stared at the form. Well, she thought, as she penned "witch" in the space, two can play at that game. Although to be honest, she had no idea what the "game" was.  
  
If you have a dæmon, and it has settled, what is its form?  
  
Britney paused, chewing on the end of her pen. Her dæmon would have to be something really special, something that totally represented her innermost soul . . . ah. She had it. She carefully wrote down "pink unicorn" in the space, and added "Loularilla" as its name, after some thought.  
  
It wasn't like there was really an OFU, she thought. She was hallucinating, that was it. Having a really weird dream from eating something weird last night . . .  
  
Suddenly there was another crack and Maximillion Spatulastic appeared again, grabbing a folder he'd left on her bed.  
  
"Left all the rest of my application forms." He mumbled, turned to leave, and then paused, sniffing the air. He glanced at Britney, shuddered just a bit, and disappeared, muttering something about it not being the hairspray after all.  
  
Britney threw down the pen on top of the completed form and ran out of her room. Even school was better than this. 


End file.
